


My Little Monkey

by legendarytobes



Series: Trixie the Antichrist, Princess of Hell [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Crack, F/M, Fluff, Kid Fic, Romance, Trixie is the antichrist, antichrist fic, pregnant chloe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:55:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24997213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendarytobes/pseuds/legendarytobes
Summary: AU - Actress Chloe Decker has a modest career as a B-movie actress, but that's just the way she likes it, following in her murdered mother's footsteps as the currentVampire Queen. Everything in her life was going to plan until at a fan convention, she met a charming if insane fanboy who claimed to be the Devil...
Relationships: Chloe Decker & John Decker, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Series: Trixie the Antichrist, Princess of Hell [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1809595
Comments: 22
Kudos: 181





	My Little Monkey

**Author's Note:**

> Originally part of/a section in the "Five Things that Never Happened to Chloe Decker." AU presuming that Penelope Decker was murdered instead of John Decker, who is very much alive.

It was exhausting.

Chloe Decker loved her career, even if many critics thought she was a terrible actress and more reviews of her work were harsh rather than kind. She adored acting, enjoyed being in goofy B-movies, and she even dug the convention circuit. She’d practically grown up on it with her mother in the summers, and then, after her mom had been killed, and Chloe had switched from more mainstream roles like _Hot Tub High School_ (still her biggest regret and the key reason for the “no nudity” clauses in every contract since) to filling the stilettos as _The Vampire Queen’s Daughter_. Those initial roles, building on her late mom’s legacy, had been easily parlayed into a series of different genre films from alien invasion flicks to werewolf films. It was her bread and butter, and to be fair, you couldn’t find more enthusiastic fans.

But this newer fan convention in Rome had been pushing it, even for her. She’d taken the red eye only thirty-six hours ago from Vancouver, hadn’t slept more than an hour since, and this June was setting temperature shattering records. That mixed with the only so-so air conditioning in the hotel conference rooms left her sweaty, wilted, and just spent. Besides, fucking _Hot Tub_ was a new addition to Netflix Rome, and she’d gotten more than her usual share of creepy fanboys this time around.

She was just over it.

But, of course, she couldn’t afford to ever falter. She’d been an actress for over decades, since her mom had gotten her a job out of kindergarten on one of her shoots. It had been easier back as a child actress or even a teenager. Never easy cause the paparazzi were monsters, but _simpler_ because now even one slip could end up on Instagram or Youtube, and she had to always be on, always be polite.

Even if it were over a hundred degrees in the sweltering room, and Giancarlo had been about to explain to her just how important _that scene_ had been during his teenage years. Dear Christ, if she had a dollar for every time she heard that, she’d be able to buy and sell Jeff Bezos.

At least the line was winding down, and she’d be able to meet her agent and a few friends from the convention out for drinks. Couldn’t come too soon. Still, finally Giancarlo finished recounting in far too much detail about his sexual awakening at fourteen---and what was she supposed to say to that, thanks?---and the next person in line stepped up.

Chloe blinked.

Then, she blinked again.

She’d been doing these conventions for herself well over a decade. There was a certain profile of guy who came to these. Usually a bit shy and polite, and, yes, occasionally an over-sharer, but they almost always wore either jeans and a fandom-centric t-shirt or cosplayed up as a character. In fact, she’d had a few Vampire Kings in line just today. This dude wasn’t like the others. He was tall, lithe, and so devastatingly handsome she assumed one of the other actors for the convention had arrived a day late and wouldn’t be doing panels till tomorrow. Besides, she had never seen a fan come to any convention in a three-piece Armani suit.

She knew her designers well, and what this guy was decked out in would cost ten grand easy.

_What in the world?_

Suddenly embarrassed that her hair was flat, her make up melted half-off her face, and she was wearing an old t-shirt of her own that a dear fan had made her about “how real queens suck blood,” Chloe sat up straighter and forced herself to go into her practiced routine.

And tried to keep her stomach from flip-flopping.

“Hi!”

The stranger smiled and surprised her again by pulled what he wanted her to sign from behind his back. Chloe’s eyes widened, and she whistled at the broadsword prop he’d set down before her.

“Hello, Miss Decker, I’d be rather honored if you signed this.”

British to boot. Seriously, was she just not aware of everyone showing up for this? Was there a new show coming out being promoted last minute on the circuit? Either that or one of the other actors had to be playing a prank on her. There was flatly no way the man before her wasn’t already in the business, right?

The dark-haired stranger frowned at her pause. “I’m sorry. Are props not allowed?” He shrugged and pulled out a money clip in the shape of a pentagram and flicked through first American cash by the hundreds and then to the Italian bills that even Chloe couldn’t keep straight (she had people for that). “A picture would suffice. Heard they’re worth a thousand words, but of you, I bet one is an entire novel’s worth.”

She giggled genuinely at that, horrified when the whole insanity of the day escaped from her and it ended up with a snort. _God, kill her now_. “No, I just…that’s a great replica. It looks just like my mom’s from the first ever _Vampire Queen_. We had these crappy house movers though, so even though she got to keep her favorite of the swords from set, it got lost when we moved out to Malibu.” She sniffled a little.

It was probably weird to get sentimental over something like that, but being the Vampire Queen had meant so much to her mother, and that first film…well, she’d never seen her mom ever happier then when she was making it.

“I never thought I’d see one like it again. Did you make it?” Chloe asked.

The fan quirked his head at her and frowned. “No, I will confess that forging weapons is not necessarily my strong suit. Or at least, it’s been eons since I’ve needed anything like that.” He chuckled warmly, and her traitorous belly flip flopped again. “Dearie me, where are my manners?” The man extended his hand and shook hers gently. “The name’s Lucifer Morningstar, and I didn’t make the blade; I bought it from the black market. It’s an original.”

Chloe’s heart sank at the name. Maybe he wasn’t another actor new to the circuit playing around with her after all. With a name like that, even if he was incredibly hot and rich, he had to be an even bigger fanboy than the usual. Cute and crazy, probably best to avoid. However, she couldn’t help being curious about the blade. What he was saying wasn’t possible.

“I’m really sorry, then. It’s a great facsimile, but it can’t be from the set. There were only three. Mom got one, and it was lost. The stunt coordinator and the director have the other two. But it’s really nice, and I’d be happy to sign it.”

“No, I have it on the best authority, even had my right-hand Mazikeen find a way to authenticate it, much to her displeasure. It’s---”

She ignored him, knowing she’d taken too long even if the day was winding down. There were still a half dozen other paying attendance goers who’d earned their turn. It was silly. It was just a sword. It wasn’t…she just missed her mom was all. Shaking her head, she flipped the sword back so that the bright red cut-glass stone at the hilt (a “ruby” by Hollywood magic standards) faced upwards. Leaning low, she brought her felt tip pen to the area just under the not-a-ruby and was about to sign it.

When she froze.

There was nail polish on the hilt. Bright purple with a few glittery sparkles in it. Chloe knew that mark. She’d made it once at eleven, and her mother had been so mad at Chloe for messing up the prop but had been too nervous about doing worse damage to try removing it with acetone.

Chloe’s hand shook so badly she dropped the pen.

“Miss Decker?”

“I… _this_ is my Mom’s one after all. How did you get it?”

Lucifer (really?) offered her that blinding grin again. “I trade in favors, darling, and I make the best ones. It’s a bit of a story, but I’d be happy to share it with you later on.” His expression dimmed a bit. “You said this one was lost in moving. I didn’t realize your mother only had the one when I tracked this down. Would you like it back? I’m more than happy to trade that for a signed picture instead and an aperitif with you?”

One of convention security was getting antsy. Running over was bad enough, but essentially hitting on the talent was a big no-no. “Hey, Bond, move over.”

Chloe shot Marco a look. “It’s fine. This time, it’s fine, really.” She ran her fingers over the cold metal of the blade. “I would love to.” She forced a perky smile to her face. “That’s a fair deal. I’ll keep the blade, and you can have that drink and any signed photo you’d like. Pick your poison.”

“Lovely,” he said, clapping his hands together with aplomb.

Lucifer, nope still weird to think that, scanned over her assorted stills and headshots and she wanted to groan when he hesitated over a PG-rated shot from that stupid hot tub film (her agent made her keep that as an option; they sold like hot cakes even now) before settling on one of her few non-genre performances. Perhaps an ill-advised attempt to move into serious movies just once, done a couple films after the hot tub debacle and the last real film she’d ever shot since her mom had died a few weeks after its release.

After that, she’d dived head first into being the reboot Vampire Queen and in B-grade shlock.

“This one. I confess, Miss Decker, I’m not familiar with it.”

She picked it up and signed it with a small heart and a “To Lucifer” as a generic greeting. “Yeah, no one saw it. I mean, a few critics actually didn’t hate me as Emma, but it just…yeah, let’s say I never exactly expanded out to British period drama, you know?”

Lucifer laughed again and took the picture from her, his fingers tickling just barely over her own as he slipped the still from her hand. “True, but you’re rather fetching in it, Miss Decker. Trust me, the women of that time had nothing on you. Now, as for the aperitif. There’s a bar a few blocks from here, quiet place, actually, _Il Goccetto_. Shall we say eight?”

She sighed. “Make it ten. I have a feeling my agent is going to ream me out already.”

He nodded. “Sounds splendid.” Reaching down with his free hand, he grabbed her own and kissed the back of it delicately. “Until then, Vampire Queen, it’s been a pleasure.”

**

The bar wasn’t what she expected. It wasn’t even so much a bar as a modest yet popular wine tasting room with a small collection of fresh pastries in the corner, wines arranged from floor to ceiling in ancient racks, and a few tables decked out with clean white linen arranged closely together in the tight space. For a guy with money to burn on black market props buying and a suit some of her exes would have killed for, Lucifer had chosen an oddly normal place.

She liked it.

It was reassuring that he didn’t always lead with his money.

_And where had that thought come from_?

This wasn’t a date, not really. They’d made a deal so that she could get the sword back. After all, Dad would be thrilled when he saw it too. Clearly, Lucifer had been kind enough to part with something he both prized and had paid a tidy sum for. In return, this was just a glass of white wine and an inquiry into how he tracked it down. After all, those movers had “lost” a few other prized items from the house then. She’d never suspected those bastards had tried to sell it on the open market, but she should have. Maybe there were a few other things Lucifer could help her track down, things she could surprise her Dad with for Christmas.

See, reconnaissance.

That was all.

Reconnaissance with a tall, dark, British stranger who made her mouth water. Totally normal. And not at all a date or something she’d put on a lingerie set for just in case. _Right, Decker, I buy that_. Chloe ignored that annoying little voice in her head that both was sure this date wouldn’t go well---her relationships rarely had---and that why would she even want it to because, hot or not, Lucifer Morningstar clearly couldn’t quite tell fantasy from reality.

She was pouring over the menu when the man in question slid into the chair beside her. “Hey! I’m sorry I ended up being early. My agent finished lecturing me ahead of schedule,” Chloe explained in case he assumed there’d been a sudden time change or that he was late.

Lucifer gave her a brisk nod and beckoned for the sommelier. She didn’t follow what he said then, but it sounded like fairly flawless Italian. Soon enough the wine steward was off, and Lucifer was focusing all his attention on her. That was overwhelming. His eyes were so incredibly dark and soulful. With them focused on her like that, Chloe felt like she might drown.

“I chose a red if that’s alright. Also, they have delightful tarts here, a dark chocolate raspberry confection that’s as close to divine as anything I’ve ever come across on earth.”

She swallowed hard. Right, the Lucifer thing. Recovering quickly, Chloe offered him a kind smile. “Sounds nice. Have you lived in Rome long?”

“I don’t live here.”

“Oh, you seem to speak Italian pretty well.”

“I speak everything,” he said, shrugging as if that were a possibility. “I did spend time back in Milan but that was centuries again. Modeled for a few Renaissance painters…well mostly modeled, occasionally it just devolved into shagging before pieces could be completed. Never cared much for Rome for the obvious reasons. Vatican isn’t as much a mortal enemy as a bloviating thorn in my side on occasion. But most of the rest of Italy is lovely.”

She blinked at that and forced her mouth to snap back shut. He was so serious. The entire delivery of his monologue was done without a hint of a laugh or a sly wink. Either he was a really good actor, one who was having a bit of fun at her expense, or he was crazy. Chloe just couldn’t tell which.

“The Renaissance?”

“Well, yes. I don’t get to holiday much, but I managed almost six months in Milan in about 1660. It was splendid. Then my pillock of an older brother shoved me down to Hell, like always. Venice I didn’t see till the turn of the last century. Canals are nice enough, I suppose, but the water is filthy. I can’t catch anything, but its unseemly nevertheless.”

“You’re kidding, right? This is an act or a prank.”

Lucifer frowned back at her. “Oh, you mortals. You never do listen to me, do you? I am the literal, Biblical Devil, Miss Decker.” He sniffed a little at her incredulity and studied his perfectly manicured nails. “Somehow, I had hoped that someone with your career would be more open-minded.”

“Lucifer,” she said, frowning a bit at the name as it tripped off her tongue. “those are still just _movies_. They’re not real. Hell, if anything, I’m an atheist. I mean, Mom was always kind of into crystals and New Age healing. I haven’t even thought about religion since she died.” She shrugged. “If there is a God---”

“Oh, there is.”

“Then, He’s an asshole,” she said.

Lucifer grinned as the sommelier set out their bottle and the tarts. He moved with fluid grace even doing something as mundane as popping open the bottle and pouring a glass for each of them. He handed Chloe hers and raised his own in a toast. “He truly is, darling, and a terrible father. I’ll drink to that.”

She rolled her eyes but humored him. A fan was a fan, after all, and Lucifer’s delusions seemed harmless and somewhat humorous the way he delivered his stories. If it got her information about some of her mom’s prized possessions still out there, it was worth sitting here. Besides, he was awfully easy on the eyes.

“So, your dad is God?”

“Well, God made all the angels, and loathe as I am to admit it, I _was_ one a very long time ago.”

Chloe had only been to church a few times as a small girl with her dad’s parents back when they still visited Ohio for Christmas. But her paternal grandparents had been gone for years. What little she did know about the Devil basically revolved around red horns, a Fall from heaven, and offering Eve an apple. Maybe some stuff about snakes, she wasn’t sure.

“Right, cause you got kicked out.”

“I did indeed. Now you’re getting it.”

She sipped her wine, and it calmed her nerves. “Why are you in Rome if you hate the city?”

“The city is fine, some of its landmarks are not. Honestly, this time around on earth isn’t completely a holiday. Don’t get a bloke wrong, I was able to squeeze in a chance to meet the reigning Vampire Queen for my troubles. However, Mazikeen---”

“Your secretary, right?”

“Oh, it’s best if she never hears you say that. She’s my bodyguard and most trusted demon. Honestly, using her tracking skills to find that sword for me was a one-off.”

“Sure, demon bodyguard, gotcha.” She was so pathetic. Of course, she’d managed to attract both the hottest guy at the convention and yet the one with clearly the biggest mental issues. “You two were here for what else? Lodging a complaint about too many exorcisms lately?”

He laughed and bit into his tart. Chloe tried to ignore the way a smudge of chocolate clung to the corner of his mouth and how desperately she wanted to volunteer to kiss it off. “Don’t be daft. I outlawed those a millennium ago. Messy business, plus it gets my brother Michael involved. Do not relish the Sword of God on my doorstep.”

_Okay then._ “So, besides FantasyCon, what are you here for?”  
  


Lucifer sighed and sipped his wine before replying. “A prophecy that has become peskier of late. It sounds so utterly ridiculous, but it’s been causing the demons to stir, and I like to keep order in that hovel I’m forced to rule. Thus, research was warranted. Not turning up much I’m afraid.”

Chloe considered that. “Well, it’s not like you could just waltz up to the Vatican archives.”

“Oh, I’ve been researching there for a week. Bloody boring place, though not dusty. However, I’ve made precious little progress.”

Chloe blinked and sputtered a bit on her wine. “What?”

“Well, not to put a fine point on it, Miss Decker, but I’m The Prince of Darkness, not a vampire, which, sadly, only exist on celluloid. I can go wherever I please. I abhor churches because my Father’s annoying, but I don’t burst into flame in them. What a silly thought.”

“I…huh,” she said, completely unsure of how to answer that. “I’m sorry you didn’t have any luck, I guess.”

He smiled back at her, and despite all his crazy rantings, Chloe couldn’t help but grin back. Mostly, Lucifer was erratic but charming. She’d honestly met weirder in L.A.

“I wouldn’t exactly say that. I’m having a lovely time right now, just wish I’d had more forward momentum with that prophecy rot. Now, Miss Decker, enough about me. What else do you want to know about that sword I purchased…”

**

She shouldn’t have accepted his invitation back to his hotel. It wasn’t that she couldn’t do it, but her management team would not be pleased with her sneaking around with some fan in Rome. There was always the chance pictures would leak---and then her _dad_ and everyone else on the planet would know she’d had a one night stand with a, well, slightly loopy fan who was convinced he was the Devil---and she had an early morning meet and greet at eight a.m. The last thing she should be doing was going to Lucifer Morningstar’s room.

But he was handsome and charming, and it had been a while since her last anything since she’d broken up with Shaun months ago. Dating for a celebrity, even a B-level one, wasn’t easy when you were always traveling after all.

She was lonely, and for a night, Chloe could certainly do worse. Besides, once he’d mentioned he was staying at the actual St. Regis. Their hotel for the convention, to put it mildly, was less auspicious, and she hadn’t wanted the night to end. What she hadn’t expected but should have from a man who could hunt down obscure artifacts lost even to her family and carried around thousands in a thick pentagram money clip as if it were milk money was that he had the presidential suite.

Chloe whistled the minute she stepped in, and even as she slipped off her heels, which by now were _killing_ her. “This is amazing.”

Lucifer chuckled and gestured to the window. “Has a lovely view of St. Peter’s Basilica if you’re interested in that. I assume you don’t give a toss except for the architecture side since you mentioned that you were spiritual at best?”

She still strode across the room to gaze out the big picture window to the plaza below and the view of the Vatican beyond. She could appreciate the beauty in the building’s design, even if she’d never been Catholic. “The Devil is this close to the Pope, huh, weird.”

“See, you’re beginning to understand.”

Chloe giggled enough to accidentally snort again, and she wished in real life she was as smooth and seductive as her alter ego the Vampire Queen was onscreen. There was probably something disappointing for Lucifer---even if he were a bit crazy---in realizing she wasn’t as collected or badass as the movies (cheesy as they were) made her out to be.

“I really don’t, but I think it’s funny. I mean, if I bought into the schtick.”  
  


Lucifer shrugged and busied himself in the kitchen. “I’d offer a night cap, but you were so very fond of the red wine at the café. I can make some espresso if you’d like, wake you up a bit, or I still have some rolls from this morning. They’re no longer fresh but that and some water would stave off a hangover in the morning, darling.”

“Are you mother henning me?” she asked, a wry smile working its way over her face.

“The term I prefer is ‘molly coddling,” he replied. “But yes, I would feel awful if you suffered a migraine and couldn’t finish out your convention duties. What sort of host would I be?”

“You really are mother henning!” She giggled at that but managed _not_ to snort this time. “I thought the Devil wasn’t supposed to care about his guests or, well, anything.”

Lucifer stilled and the smile froze on his face. “So, you don’t believe me, but you, Vampire Queen, would like to quiz me about what the Devil does and doesn’t do?”

She nodded and sashayed or tried to (she was maybe a little tipsy) to the bedroom part of the suite. “I think I know a lot about what Lucifer Morningstar does, and it’s quite the confusing picture.”

“Do tell,” he said, grabbing a couple of bottles of water and following her to his room.

She grinned as he set the bottles on a bedside table. He was close enough to finally touch him, really enjoy it, and she’d been dying to since he’d taken her arm and led her like a perfect gentleman from the café. Oh, who was she even kidding? She’d been waiting to do _everything_ with him since she’d first heard him speak. If Lucifer ever entered into the entertainment business, he’d kill it. God, that accent alone…

And he’d end up in a far better circuit than she ran in. His commitment to the Devil thing was some expert method.

Chloe sidled up to him and pushed at the lapels of his jacket. Lucifer took the hint and slipped it down over his shoulders. Then she reached up and unbuttoned his shirt, something bright violet that most men wouldn’t have been able to even try, but of course the would-be Prince of Darkness pulled off without a hitch.

Her voice fell to a whisper as she undid each button. “I know that you’re suave, yet you still love terribly geeky movies like mine.”

“They’re a credit to cinema. Even that one you probably loathe.”

  
She narrowed her eyes at “The Devil.” “Trust me, Satan, if you want to get laid, you won’t mention _that_ film ever again.”

“Well, I’ve always been most partial to the Vampire Queen reboots. They’re fun and campy like your mother’s, but you bring such a fierceness underneath. It’s quite admirable.”

She chuckled. “You and most fanboys I meet.” He was naked from the waist up now, and she should do him a similar courtesy and undo her wrap dress, but she wasn’t ready yet. Chloe licked her lips and ran her hands over the planes of his abs, over the dips the high point of his hips that just peaked from under his belt line. “You’re so warm.”

“Part of being readied to live in a fiery pit of despair for most of time, love.”

She shook her head. Well, she had met even more _annoying_ method actors. Lucifer really was good. She had no idea why he didn’t just try acting for real. “Of course, well, you’re also a gentleman.”

He arched an eyebrow at her and pressed his hips against her stomach, and she could feel his hardness there. “I’m interested and surely not celibate, darling.”

“But you fuss over a hangover I won’t have cause I’m pretty good at this by now at twenty-seven. It’s oddly sweet, maybe old-fashioned.” She highlighted her point by running her hands up his shoulders. She wasn’t the shortest of women, but Lucifer was tall, towered over even her, especially now that she was flat footed. Chloe made a show of mewling just a little. “Could you bend down for me? You’re like trying to climb a tree.”

He chuckled at that, a warm throaty sound as smooth as fine liquor. “That’s a way to put it. Is that what we’re planning, are we?”

“Maybe,” she said, stepping back from him just long enough to pulled the knot out of the belt on her dress and let it fall to the floor. Chloe made short look of stepping out of her panties and unclasping her bra. Normally she might have made a show of undressing for a guy as hot as he was, but it had been too long, and she’d been flirting all night. “What do you want, Lucifer?”

And it did feel a little like one of her dumber movies to say something like that out loud.

He smirked at her and reaching out, traced large hands over her breasts. “You said something about climbing me like a tree, I believe?”

She grinned. “Exactly.”

Things moved quickly after that and his arms were around her and helping heft her to his waist. She wrapped her legs around him, and his lips were on hers, warm and wanting, his tongue more than eager to plumb the depths of her mouth. He was strong, that much was obvious, because he held her up and strode to the nearest expanse of wall as if it were nothing, as if she weighed no more than a feather. Lucifer held her easily with one hand under a cheek of her ass as he undid his zipper in record time and she felt the slick tip of him against her folds.

“Fuck,” he cursed.

She had to chuckle at that even as he stilled against her, and it was the _last_ thing she wanted.

“What?”

“Of all things…I honestly did come to Rome for a research trip. I am, perhaps, under packed.” He arched his hips just a bit and teased her entrance until she realized what she meant.

“I’m on the pill,” she blurted out. Because of course she was, and if they stopped this now, she would die from need. “Please, I’m serious. If you put me down now, I’ll probably murder you.”

He chuckled and eased into her, inch by promising inch. Chloe hissed at the heavy girth of him inside. “Run me through with a broadsword then?”

“I know where I have one.”

Lucifer flexed his hips again and she moaned a little at the pleasure against her g-spot. “I think you’re the one impaled.”

She giggle-snorted again and didn’t even care. “You’re the biggest nerd.”

“But you seem to rather enjoy it, Vampire Queen.”

“I do. Now fuck me, Lucifer.”

And she was lost then, in the power of his arms wrapped around her, the smell of his expensive cologne, something from YSL if she weren’t mistaken, and the scratch of his stubbled against her cheek as he kissed her like a man who hadn’t been intimate with anyone in years. Something she seriously doubted as a person with working eyeballs. Still, it was flattering how much attention he paid to her. How every thrust of her hips drove her wild, until he pushed far enough to hit her g-spot just right, and she came, exploding into incoherence around him and not quite really aware of everything until she managed on wobbly legs to make it to bed.

Lucifer had gone to the bathroom to clean up and brought her a towel and then insistently---fussily---handed her a bottle of water. “Drink, Vampire Queen, you’ll feel better about it in the morning.”

“Of course, Satan,” she said, winking at him.

Definitely one of her weirder nights, but it had been fun too. She was sorry to see it end. “I…I’ll have to be gone by five to make it back to the hotel to get ready for everything. I’m so sorry I can’t stay.”

Lucifer nodded and kissed the top of her head. “I’d give you my number, but after I finish here in Rome, I won’t be on holiday any longer. There isn’t a great mobile signal in Hell.”

Chloe laughed until she almost cried. “It figures.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah, only I’d find the perfect guy, and he’d be convinced he’s the Devil.”

Lucifer kissed her again, and she could feel _improbably_ that he was already ready to go again if she had the energy. “It’s because I am the Devil, love, but humans rarely believe it. However, it was lovely to have met you for real, Chloe Decker, and I wish you and your career the best. Now, just get some rest and I’ll make sure you’re properly fed before you leave.”

“You really do mother hen.”

“It’s molly coddle, Chloe, get it right.” He said, before drifting to sleep beside her.

**

Chloe had, much as she hated it, scarfed down a few croissants quickly from the room service Lucifer had ordered and redressed. Part of her had wanted to give him her card, but he wasn’t quite all there, or at the very best, Lucifer was too method to deal with. Either way it was more complications than her busy working actress life could take. So it was just one of those days, those rare perfect days and an equally crazy night that would be fun to look back on when she was old and white-haired in a nursing home someday.

Soon enough, Chloe had gotten back to the crazy rhythm of her life, the hectic pace of filming some _Terminator_ -wannabe series in Toronto, and of trying to forget all about Lucifer Morningstar, so-called Devil.

Then, the vomiting had started. So intense that she thought she’d developed food poisoning from a questionable sushi restaurant in the city. Soon, it had turned out that her stomach problems were of a different variety. The day the set doctor told her, she’d broken down in tears. Her contract had a clause about pregnancy anyway and one about weight gain, and she had figured it easy to comply with because she was always careful and hadn’t really been seeing anyone in months.

Well, just one person for a night, and apparently, her birth control hadn’t been exactly fool proof.

And she wished it had been because the series was a dumb one, but it was good, stable series work, and it required her to travel less than she had in years. There were other _options_ for her dilemma, but Chloe just couldn’t do it. Her family was pathetically small as it was, just her and her father, and at the end of the day, she couldn’t give up her child. So, she’d finished filming out the season, even though her vomiting never got better, and by the final episode, crippling migraines were plaguing her daily. After that, she went home to Los Angeles and moved in with her father, who cared of her for a while as her health deteriorated.

He was working tonight in fact, still keeping up all the lieutenant duties his precinct had saddled him with while his daughter and soon-to-be-granddaughter rested at home. Even if Chloe was having a relatively good day with no headaches and a fierce craving to actually eat for once, she wasn’t enjoying pregnancy. Being almost seven months was cumbersome, and she never thought she’d miss being able to even _see_ her feet.

However, her dad---bless him---had picked up her unusual request and she was now scarfing down on a mix of caviar, which had never really been her thing before, and eel rolls. It should be gross, especially since her third craving of the day was a strawberry milkshake she’d ordered out from a shake shop not far from her dad’s place.

It was great though, hit the spot. God, she couldn’t wait till the delivery, and things would go back to at least somewhat more normal again.

Chloe was sacked out on the couch, intermittently sipping on the shake and eating her second (okay _third_ ) can of caviar while half-dozing in front of some teen romcom on Netflix. One of the ones made for the service that was way better than the shlock she’d been in almost seven years ago. Although, to be fair, the damn service also kept asking her if she’d _like_ to see _Hot Tub High School_ based on the rest of her browsing history.

She was going to take a big pass on that.

Sighing, she finally set her fish eggs aside, and stroked at her ample belly. “You, Trixie, are making a complete mess of me.”

Once she found out she was pregnant, she’d started a running dialogue to her kid. It was a little weird at first talking to someone who wasn’t quite there out loud, but she’d also spoken on and off to her mom after she’d lost her, and now she figured it was good for the baby to get used to her voice. After all, it was so important that Trixie bond with her and Dad too, since her actual dad had no chance of being in the picture.

Hell, there was no way she could even find him because she’d tried Googling and was running into some more desperate ideas to find him as well. But he didn’t seem to exist, or he was great at covering his tracks.

  
Either way, Chloe was fucked and so not in the good way.

Trixie kicked and it was a sharp blow, something that made her take in a pained breath. She figured most fetuses kicked hard, but Trixie was in Mia Hamm, going to be a World Cup Soccer Player territory.

She rubbed her side again. “You’re really something, already. I can’t sleep, my head hurts, I think you’re kicking a hole through my kidney…when I _do eat_ , it’s something totally gross, and I was never into calamari before. I…” she trailed off for a moment before re-centering her thoughts. “But then I look at all the sonograms and think about how excited Dad’s been prepping the nursery and all the girly stuff we can do some day…the things I haven’t been able to do since Mom died, okay, not that I did a ton of it before or got into pageant stuff, just the acting…but it’ll be nice, Trix. And it’ll be okay that it’s just the three of us, I really promise.”

There, of course, wasn’t an answer, but Chloe decided to take the fluttering in her stomach and the decreased kicks as a good thing.

Setting her drink down, she stroked her belly on both sides and sighed. “Yeah, Monkey, we’ll get through this. I’m just…I’m sorry you’ll never meet your dad. He’s definitely interesting, and I’m a moron, but I promise me and grandpa already love you lots.”

Chloe sighed and flipped for through the menu for another movie. Her dad wouldn’t be home for hours, and she was going to take advantage of Trixie resting to doze off hardcore to _Can’t Hardly Wait_.

**

By the eighth month, she’d been forced onto bed rest in a private clinic. Her job was cheesy and her movies usually crappy, but she’d saved enough to have the funds to get the best specialist for all of this. A blessing because the pregnancy was not an easy one. Between her constant nausea and trouble keeping food down, the migraines that sometimes left her too weak to walk, and the crippling cramps that felt like her back was in a vice (those were newer, only over the final month at least), Chloe was a mess.

Her father had begged her repeatedly for the father’s name. She hadn’t given it because her dad would think she was insane. Chloe Decker had always been so responsible, first because her mom was kind of flakey even when she was growing up, and then because in his grief, Dad had needed someone to look after him. There was no way to explain to John Decker that his normally level-headed daughter had been so irresponsible as to sleep with---no get pregnant by---a man who kept insisting he was the Devil.

Besides, she’d tried finding him too. She’d worked every angle and possible contact she had, talked to an old friend of hers, who after deciding to leave acting, ended up working for the FBI of all things. No dice.

Lucifer Morningstar didn’t exist.

Except he did, and she was ready to give birth to his kid any day.

Chloe lay in bed, half asleep and half focused on the _Full House_ reruns playing on her TV. She’d dilated a few centimeters but wasn’t even close yet. She couldn’t even tell if she was having contractions on her own because, honestly, the last month had been so full of pain that it all felt like one big twist of muscles and nerves for far too long. Her dad opened the door and slid down into the chair beside her. Despite everything, especially the strain the pregnancy had put on their relationship, there was no more welcome sight to her than her dad.

He smiled broadly at her, even if the expression didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Monkey, how are you feeling?”

“Terrible,” she croaked.

Her dad sighed and reaching out, stroked her hair back from her forehead. “Not much longer, Monkey.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Baby…I’m upset because this shouldn’t be happening to you. I’ve felt so impotent with how sick you’ve been and how little the doctors have been able to do to fix it. I just want you to get better. I also wish you’d tell me who did this so I can ring his neck, introduce him to my service revolver, and make him give you all the child support in one lump sum check.”

“Dad!”

Her father sighed again and kissed her temple. “Chloe, I just want you to feel better. When the baby---”

“Beatrice Penelope,” she said.

Her father always smiled at that, ever since Chloe had come up with the name back in the second trimester. The pregnancy was a terrible process, but giving even a small bit of a namesake to her mother…that much felt right, felt _good_.

“Yes, well, when little Trixie gets here, things should get easier. You won’t be sick anymore, and I…the father should still be able to support you both.”

“Dad, I have enough money, and Mom’s estate and residuals provide extra besides.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “So, the service revolver option?”

“Still gonna pass on that one, Dad.”

He shook his head and pulled up the little bag he’d been carrying on his lap. “I brought you and Trixie a present.”

“Ooh, can you open it for me,” she said, taking a breath from the cannulas in her nose. “It’s a little hard right now.”

Her father’s smile faltered for just a moment, and Chloe hated herself for that. Hated herself for being reckless with her health and for scaring him so much. The doctors kept saying that despite everything, all her mystery complications, they thought she’d do much better once Trixie was delivered. It was why they’d scheduled the Caesarian for tomorrow, after two days stuck at three centimeters. If the baby were out of her, she’d get better. She had to. She couldn’t leave her dad alone, not after everything with Mom.

She wouldn’t leave Trixie without a mother either, not if she could help it. It had been crushing enough to suffer through her mother’s murder at nineteen. Trixie… _no_ , she’d be better as soon as she was no longer pregnant. Simple as that.

Reaching out, she squeezed her father’s hand weakly. “Come on, none of that. I want to see my present.”

Her dad sniffled a little but opened the bag and pulled out the cutest little stuffed monkey she’d ever seen. It was a girl with pink fur and dressed in a princess costume, complete with a crown on its head. Okay, it was also utterly ridiculous, but she loved it all the same.

“For my little Monkey’s Little Monkey.”

She set her palm flat on her belly, which had never gotten big, not with how little she’d managed to keep down day to day. “Maybe Trixie can get a new nickname. She’s her own person, after all. So more like a little monkey for a little to be determined.”

Her father chuckled and squeezed the monkey tightly to his chest. “Alright then sweetie. You drive a hard bargain.”  
  


“I do,” she said. “So, I was able to at least Google around on my phone. I’m half out of it but TBS is doing a marathon of some of Mom’s old stuff in about an hour. You can watch that, and I’ll just pass out a bit.”

He stroked her shoulder. “You rest, Monkey. You’re doing such a good job.” She nodded and closed her eyes, almost asleep but not quite when her dad added, “I am going to find the bastard who did this to you, and he’ll be lucky if some bullets are all he gets.”

**

She was put under for the Caesarian, not just with a local anesthetic but out all the way. It was the first relief from the crushing pain she’d had since the migraines started. In fact, when she finally woke up back in her room, everything felt _amazing_ because she’d delivered and whatever changes in her hormones that had been driving her body insane were already receding. Blinking awake, Chloe sat up and pulled the cannulas from her nostrils and, greedily, reached to the tray by her bed and guzzled down half a pitcher of water.

Her room was quiet.

Too quiet. It was probably because she’d been so sick. They must have moved Trixie to the nursery right away, probably had a nurse feeding her. After all, there was no tiny incubator in her room. But that didn’t explain where her dad or the doctors were. Shouldn’t they be around?

“Dad?”

No answer.

_Was something wrong with Trixie? Had she…_

No, Chloe would not think like that, not without proof. Standing up on shaky legs and pulling her hospital gown tighter around her, Chloe made it over to her dresser where she fumbled with her phone until she dialed her father. It rang through four times before he picked up.

When he spoke, there was a note of utter terror in his voice that she’d never heard before. He was a police lieutenant, for Christ sakes, nothing scared him. “Monkey! How are you?”

“Dad? Dad where’s the baby? What’s wrong?”

Her father took in a sharp breath on the other end, and Chloe’s heart started to crack the same way it had the day he told her about her mom. “Monkey, the baby is stable.”

“Where are you?”

“I was visiting her at the NICU, but I’ve been detained.”

“What? What does that even mean? Is Trixie dying? I…” she yanked the lines connecting her to the IV drip out of her arms and rushed out of the door. Chloe could find the NICU. She’d already walked past the main nursery at the other end of the floor. She had a hunch the NICU side was down to the far left of her room. “Dad, what is going on?”

“Stop!” her dad shouted and then there was gun shots and the line went dead.

Chloe’s heart was in her throat as she hurried down the hallway. The doctors and nurses knocked unconscious on the floor did nothing to alleviate her fears. How the Hell had she had the bad luck to have given birth after everything in a hospital under siege? She rounded the corner, her head spinning and found the large sign that said “NICU” on it. Bursting through the door, she froze at the scene before her.

All the medical staff there was also knocked out---God, please let them just be knocked out---and her Dad stood, hovering over Trixie’s incubator, with his nine mil drawn while he was actively trying to reload the clip. She arched her neck and stared in utter shock and confusion at the far side of the room. There crouched a woman with dark skin and two wickedly curved blades in her hands.

She had powder burns on her chest but and at least one bullet hole torn through her shirt, but she wasn’t bleeding. _How_ wasn’t she bleeding?

“What the Hell is going on?” Chloe demanded, furious at all of this. She was half naked in a hospital gown, hadn’t felt decent or strong in months, and had no weapons on her but this was her dad and her kid, and this crazy intruder couldn’t have them. She turned and glared at the woman and her knives. “What the fuck are you doing?”

The woman stood and regarded Chloe with more condescension than should be humanly possible. “I’ve tracked down something that doesn’t belong to you.”

Chloe was across the room in an instant, standing between her daughter and her dad and the crazy woman with the blades. “She’s my daughter and what mental hospital did you break out of?”

“The child isn’t supposed to be here. I don’t want it in Hell, but I need to find a place to hide it far from my boss before Amenadiel steals it.”

Chloe had no idea what the woman was rambling about and then…wait, Hell?

“She’s not going anywhere,” her father said, gun reloaded and aimed for at the intruder’s heart.

The woman rolled her eyes. “Please, humans and their guns have never scared me. It’s better this way. How could you possibly take care of a child like this?”

“Like what?” Chloe demanded. “I haven’t even met her, and you can’t have her. You move, and Dad will shoot you.”

The woman yawned. “Been there, done that. Really ruined my favorite pair of leather pants. Chloe Decker and John Decker, it would be best if you moved. I don’t care if humans die, but it’s less messy to just knock them out, less of a chance my boss notices I ran wild up here.”

Chloe shook her head and backed up to the opposite side of the incubator from her father. For the first time, she glanced down and looked at her daughter---at her tiny body and miniscule fingers, at her dark head of hair, and the little monkey-themed onesie she was wearing. She was breathing so strong and didn’t have tubes in her. Why on earth was she even in the NICU? Then, Trixie, apparently finally aware of all the chaos around her, opened her eyes and started to wail.

Chloe’s first instinct was to pick her child up, but she froze in place when she noticed her daughter’s eyes, at the licks of red flame that seemed to dance in them.

Hell, boss, those eyes…

“You’re Mazikeen,” Chloe said, pulling the name from a dinner nine months ago to the surface. “I…you work for Lucifer Morningstar.”

“Yes, and I really don’t want him to know I’m here or that, somehow, he set this dumbass prophecy in motion because of course he did. Look, you don’t want to deal with the antichrist; I don’t want to deal with it either. Lucifer has fuck all idea how to be a parent and Daddy issues for centuries, seriously. Let me take it, you go fuck a normal bland human, start over in nine months, okay?” Mazikeen didn’t move forward, but she did twirl one wickedly sharp blade in her right hand. “Seriously, mortals, I’m being nice because this is way above your pay grade.”

Her father shook beside the incubator a little but never dropped his aim. “Get the fuck out of here. You’ll take my granddaughter over my dead body.”  
  


Mazikeen rolled her eyes and stepped forward, recoiling only slightly as two slugs slammed into her shoulder. “I offered you another way, but so be it. I don’t have any time left before Lucifer or Amenadiel or _both_ get here.”

The demon---that’s what Lucifer had called her and her daughter had red eyes and oh fuck he hadn’t been delusional at all---rushed forward and Chloe pulled her daughter to her chest and held her tight, even as her father emptied a clip uselessly at the menace before them.

But just as Mazikeen reached out for her child, just as she felt the fevered grasp of the demon’s hand on her wrist, something large and fast barreled through the far wall of the room, rendering it to rubble. Chloe turned, blinked, and decided her life had gone from impossible to flat out Crazy Town when she spied Lucifer before her, brushing brick dust off his suit and shaking out his great white wings.

The actual fuck?

Chloe’s brain sputtered at the sigh, but her father, who’d never been religious either, fell to his knees and started to cross himself and pray. She held Trixie close to her chest, and only then noticed that her daughter had stopped crying and was cooing gently against her.

Looking down, Chloe pushed the dark ruffles of hair from Trixie’s face and spied the now perfectly normal, soulful, and _familiar_ brown eyes blinking back at her. “You can’t have her.”

Lucifer rolled his shoulders and his wings disappeared. Her dad was still in some religious stupor on the floor muttering prayers to himself, but Mazikeen had stopped touching her. In fact, the demon had stepped back from the incubator and was staring back at Lucifer with her head hung low.

“Lucifer, I can explain.”

When he spoke, his voice and accent were as sensual as she remembered them, but his tone was a low and menacing. “Mazikeen, how long have you known?”

Chloe looked between them both and waited for an answer too.

The demon looked him in the eyes and holstered her knives. “A few months now. I caught the scent. I thought I was going crazy at first, but last month I was sure, and I had to track it down.”

Lucifer’s eyes grew impossibly red and the shade matched too exactly what Trixie’s had done. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“A child is a distraction, my king, and---”

Lucifer shouted then, and his eyes flashed so brightly that Chloe had to look away. “Enough. You deceived me, Mazikeen.”

“I protect you, even from yourself,” she countered. “The prophecy is starting, and if we just get rid of it now, the prophecy doesn’t have to change anything.”

“ _Her_ ,” Lucifer collected, his voice like ice and his eyes a simmering collection of flames. “Her, not it. Were you going to kill her, Maze? Would you what? Have taken her to the ends of the Arctic and left her to freeze to death? Give us a hint now.”

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead. If I didn’t take it and find a way to at least hide it, you know Amenadiel would take it instead to the Silver City for judgment. Do you want that?”

“I want choice. You know what happens when that is denied to me, Mazikeen. Go!”

“Lucifer, I was just trying---”

“No,” he said, and something _flickered_ , and for a moment, Chloe thought his face had changed, that it had become nothing more than a mass of scars and burns, but that had to be her imagination, didn’t it? “You lied to me, _betrayed me_. Return home and be glad I don’t do worse. My child is mine to deal with, and if the Host come, they’ll learn that too.”

Mazikeen opened her mouth to say something else but, seeming to think about of it, slammed her mouth shut, turned, and left the room.

Lucifer let out a sigh and frowned at the mess he and the demon had both left in their wake.

“Dearie me, this is quite the pickle, isn’t it?” He brushed more of the brick dust from his suit and straightened his pocket square. “First, let me remedy an unfortunate mistake.”

Chloe backed up and pulled Trixie as tightly to her body as she dared. “Don’t you hurt her!”

Lucifer froze and something like pain flashed across his face, but that couldn’t be possible because he was the Devil, and the Devil didn’t get upset, did he? “Miss Decker… _Chloe_ , I would never. I have never been fond of children---sticky, tiresome burdens at best---but I would never harm one, let alone my own. It is beneath me.”

“You’re Satan.”

“Yes, well, I told you that, and even Satan has his standards.” He said, his tone snotty. “I meant your father, Chloe. He needs help. The divine, which technically my wings still are, has quite the effect on you humans.” Lucifer frowned at that and regarded her. “Apparently not you, but perhaps that’s a side effect of having had an infernal passenger for the last nine months. However, I hardly wish to leave you father trapped in religious ecstasy. That’s rather rude of me.”

“Are you even for real?” she asked, finding it impossible to keep her remarks to herself.

Lucifer offered her a sly smile. “I would say so. That tiny bundle of Hellish joy didn’t come from just anywhere, did she?” He turned and focused his attention on her father. “Beg pardon, I’m a bit rusty with this trick, haven’t done it since before the Fall, but necessity is the mother of invention and all that.”

Her father was still mumbling to himself and as Lucifer grew close, her dad bowed down and touched Lucifer’s shoe. “I’m not worthy.”

“Yes, quite,” Lucifer said. “John Decker, please look at me.”

Her father complied and eyed the Devil, the actual, literal Biblical Devil. Shit, she’d had sex with the Devil. No, damn it and damn her, she’d just _had his kid_. Chloe Decker was so screwed.

Her dad, however, still did as Lucifer asked. “Yes, tell me what to do!”

Lucifer shook his head. “Blasted wings, more trouble than they’re worth sometimes.” He took a deep breath and focused solely on her father. “John Decker, be at peace. You will rest now, and you will wake up and not remember my wings.”

“At peace?” her dad echoed.

Lucifer nodded and set his hand on her father’s head. “Yes, John Decker. Rest now, and all will be better in the morning.”  
  


And just like that, her father yawned and passed out on the floor.

Chloe shuddered and didn’t dare breathe till she was sure her father was just asleep and not dead. “I…what did you do?”

“Well, first, wasn’t sure I could so I’d say well done me. Second, angels---even the real ones---are a fearsome sight for humans to behold. Literal awe of God and all that. ‘Be at peace’ helps calm the minds who have spied the holy without permission.”

“You’re the Devil so you’re not---”

He shrugged. “Most of me is far from holy, but the wings still tend to rot human minds. However, your father should be fine with that bit of Command and some rest.” He hesitated, slipped his hands into his pants pockets, and then rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Miss Decker---”

“Oh, we have the antichrist together. I guess you can call me ‘Chloe,’ now.”

“Yes, lovely,” he said, and suddenly those piercing, though at least human, brown eyes could no longer meet her gaze. Was he nervous? Wait, how could she make the Devil nervous? “Miss Decker… _Chloe_ , I had no idea, I assure you. I didn’t know I could. Frankly, I can’t. No angel or Fallen can.”

She rocked Trixie, who was stirring a little, against her chest. “Well, you did.”

“Yes, well, if I’d known, I’d never have left. And I did not know Mazikeen was hunting for you. I’m sorry about all of this trouble.” He reached out his arms wide and stared down at her. “However, Mazikeen isn’t completely wrong. She was merely wrong about hiding the child _from me_.”

“What?”

“Chloe, you don’t want her, do you?”

She looked down at her child, at the soft brown eyes staring back at her with perfect trust and forced the fear she still felt lingering in her at Trixie’s _other eyes_ away. “I carried her. I love her, and you can’t take her.”

“Well, you can’t keep her either. You’re two mortals, and you truly have no idea what to do with the antichrist. Also, good one, Dad. How funny.”

Chloe swallowed hard at that title applied to her child. “Do you know what to do with her?”

Lucifer faltered for a moment and did not speak. “Well, no, this has never happened before and, believe me, with my track record it bloody well should have.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, but she cannot stay only with you two. You have no idea how to deal with preternatural needs, and my siblings will come for her. Father might have created this prophecy and all its rot long ago, but the Host will be furious. I can just see Remy sharpening her knives now.”  
  


Chloe shuddered and held Trixie closer. “I…are the Host other demons?”

“Far worse, angels.”

“But angels are good.”

Lucifer sighed theatrically. “And this is why you are woefully unqualified to care for her. Angels are the bloody worst. Far bigger bastards than I could ever be. Don’t be difficult, darling, hand over the child…what’s her name again?”

“Trixie.”

He laughed. “Good one, that’s a hooker’s name. No, seriously, what’s the child’s actual moniker?”

“It _is_ Trixie. Beatrice Penelope Decker.”

Lucifer’s mouth quirked to the side as he considered that. “Well, Penelope Morningstar is workable, one supposes. I would never call the child ‘Trixie.’ How terrible.”

Chloe shook her head. “You can’t have her.”

“We just established that some very large, very pissed off angels are going to be here soon with Azrael’s blade and Dad knows what else to do away with the child. You can’t fight them. Honestly, I can’t take them all.”

“You’ll take her to Hell?” Chloe asked and her heart broke. No, not her child.

“It’s safest there. Granted, no place for a child, even the Princess of Hell, but my siblings cannot pass through the gates.”

Chloe narrowed her eyes back at him. “Well, do you know how to take care of human children?”

“She’s half devil to be fair.”

“Do you know anything about kids at all?”

“You sometimes give them milk and then there are the nappies and no, not really. I was hoping to pull a nanny out of a Hell loop if possible. I’m sure we’ve got some topnotch au pairs somewhere; they tend to have guilt issues over shagging the husbands of the household.”

“No.”  
  


Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose. “Amenadiel and Remiel and probably even Michael will be here very soon if Mazikeen could find you. So, what do you suggest? We can’t stay here.”

“You can’t take a baby---and you won’t take _mine_ \---to Hell.”

“Yes, then what do we do?”

Chloe bit her lip and quietly set Trixie back in the incubator. Stepping close to him, she reached out and offered her hand. “I want to make a deal. It’s what you do, isn’t it?”

“I enjoy a good favor, but now is _not_ the time, Miss Decker.”

“Yeah, it is, cause honestly you owe me. I was really fucking sick for the last six months. My tab just came due, Buddy, so I get to name my terms.”

Lucifer looked out at the slivers of sky through the hole in the wall. Nothing was there, yet, but Chloe believed him when he said angels would be coming soon enough. “Fine, speak fast.”

“My father and I come with you. You’re right. I don’t know anything about demons and the Devil and angels, and I really don’t want to know what all else. But you, Lucifer, know jack shit about babies.”

“Yes, that’s rather true.”

“Then, we go on the run all four of us. Wherever you go, it’s _on earth only_ , and Dad and I come along. That’s the deal.”

“I don’t need permission of a mortal to take _my_ child.”

Chloe stepped closer until she was practically jamming the fingertips of her outstretched hand into his chest. “ _Our_ child, and she’ll do better if we work together. I can’t help with Devil problems, but you wouldn’t know formula from a margarita mix.”

He rolled his eyes. “I…that’s true, but I’m a quick study.”

“Do you want to raise her in Hell, Lucifer? You said you hated it and it was why you took so many vacations.”

The Devil before her regarded her with a hard expression but finally softened. “I do not. Hell is assuredly no place for a child, but if my siblings find her, they will most likely snuff her from existence. She is not supposed to be.”  
  


“But she is,” Chloe continued. “And we’re her parents, which fucking weird, but okay. We play the ball where it lies. She needs _both_ of us, and I need my dad with me. So, that’s the deal, I carried her and almost died doing it, so you _owe_ me. And you honestly owe her better than to raise her in a fiery pit of despair.”

Lucifer sighed. “Very well, Chloe. I’ve a home in Shanghai that should be good for a few weeks, as far from Los Angeles as we can get, and we’ll start planning how to hide her better. If you give us a mo, I’ll get you and her settled there first and fly back to retrieve your father.”

“Ahem, make it official.”

“You drive a hard bargain, don’t you, Miss Decker?”

She nodded. “You have no idea.”

He shook her hand then, his hand as warm and enticing as she remembered it. Then, he dropped it and inched to the incubator. Lucifer hesitated over it. “I…I don’t know a sodding thing about infants.”

“Yes, I noticed.”

“May I?”  
  


Chloe had had it. Her mind finally snapped from all the day’s bullshit. The Devil---the one who’d knocked her up, torn through a brick wall like it was paper, and cowed a demon---was asking her, Little Old Chloe Decker, for permission to do something.

Seriously, what the fuck?

“Chloe?”

“Yes,” she said, standing back up and brushing the tears from her eyes. She was so scared that if she started screaming or crying now, she’d never stop. Laughing was all she had left. “Please, I think she’d like it.”

Lucifer bent lower and picked Trixie up. It was an awkward hold, and he looked more like he was trying to hold a football than cradle a child. At least he hadn’t dropped her. “Hello there, child. This is…I’m sorry this happened, but I don’t abandon my responsibilities unlike like your arsehole of a grandfather.”

Chloe let out another burst of hysterical giggles when it clicked for her that Trixie’s grandfather was literally God, capital “G.”

“Are you alright, Miss Decker?”

“‘Chloe’s’ really fine to call me,” she said. “Also, no. Nope, no way, no how. God’s my in-law, kind of. That’s messed up.”

“Well, Dad and I haven’t talked for eons so you might miss out on Him, one hopes.”

Nope. When he put it that way, it just made things worse, and her brain twist up into bigger knots.

“Well, hello, beautiful,” he cooed, still awkwardly rocking her. Lucifer rearranged Trixie in his arms so that he could stroke her face. Chloe gasped when Trixie’s eyes flashed red and stayed that way. “Oh, look at that, I think she recognizes me, Chloe.”

She wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing yet, but this whole FUBAR’ed situation still beat out murderous angels with killer blades. She hoped.

Lucifer continued talking. “Yes, hello there, child. I…” he stroked her cheek one last time and smiled at those red, glittering eyes. “Dad’s here now, my little antichrist.” Shaking his head, he schooled his features back to a more neutral look and handed the baby to her. “Hold her tight, please. I promise I won’t drop either of you, but all the same, I’d feel better if you also clutched her too.”

Chloe took Trixie in her arms and tried not to freak out because this was her child, and she loved her, but there were still hellfire eyes staring back at her. It was…unsettling.

Lucifer scooped her up in his arms, there was a rush of air, and his wings were back, beautiful white feathers that shone brighter than the sun greeting her. She wasn’t about to bliss out and pray to him---like really?---but they were gorgeous, and it was hard to believe he was actually Satan like that.

“Now, Miss…Chloe, hold on tight to _our_ little antichrist, would you?”

“We are _not_ calling her that.”

“Well you might not be, but _I_ will.”

With that, they descended into bickering about nicknames and this odd arrangement of theirs even as Lucifer took flight. Before she closed her eyes against the onslaught of wind, Chloe had one annoying thought:

_Should have just gone with my little monkey, way better than my little antichrist._


End file.
